


Ain't married

by edourado



Series: Hell's Kitchen Chronicles [22]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hell's Kitchen Cronicles, Kastle oneshot, Tumblr Prompt, Writing Prompt, edourado, kastle - Freeform, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-15 23:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7242925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edourado/pseuds/edourado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt. A Kastle wedding, sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ain't married

**Author's Note:**

> My feelings towards a Kastle wedding are a bit... Strange. I don't feel like they could have a peaceful marriage, not so soon after they meet. Years and years down the road, maybe. but these are complicated people, emotional bagage heavier than an average person could carry.  
> Alas, this was a request from my dear friend Syd. So I did it to the best of my ability.  
> Hope it pleases. I did enjoy writing it.

Frank tried to stand still, but it was proving to be a challenge. Fifty people sitting on the church pews, staring at him, and he debated if he could get away with shooting everybody. 

Probably not. He was outnumbered and outgunned. He didn’t have an advantage point, standing there at that fucking altar - but it was a neat idea, if he could get everybody together like that again and had a clear view of the windows. 

Jesus, what a mess. 

When he shifted his weight to his other foot one more time, Jake, his “best man” (worst man, he would rather say, considering the circumstances) leaned into him. 

“Calm down, Frankie. You got a good one. She’s a knockout.”

Oh, Lord, please hurry this up. His patience can only go so far.

The music started and he hated it. Hated it because goddammit, this was not supposed to happen. Much less with  _ her _ , she deserved more than this circus, this-

The doors opened, there she was and  _ whoa _ . 

Alright. Maybe he didn’t anticipate that she would look like  _ that _ . If he was honest, he probably wouldn’t be surprised if she showed up in one of the pencil skirts and heels, holding a bouquet. 

But the white dress sure was good. Very good. 

Frank lifted his eyes to look at her face and saw her staring at him. After a few seconds, she tried to contain a smile, which triggered a smile of his own. 

People got up, she walked up to him and he took her hand. 

“Hey”, she greeted. 

“Ma’am”, he replied, holding back his comment on her appearance.    

Turning to the fat priest - which, Frank knew, was packing under his robes -, the ceremony started and, soon, he was saying he did take Karen Page’s hand in marriage, she was saying it back, he was leaning in to kiss her, they were man and wife, people were applauding and then they were off to a tacky party with a bunch of criminals. 

.:.   

Karen measured the absurdity of it all, not for the first time.

Sitting here on Foggy’s dinner table, with him looking at her like she had sprouted a second head, Matt pacing around behind him, fumigating. And sitting by her side, her husband, Frank Castle.

Frank was her husband. She was his wife. Legally. 

It was almost an accident, but it was. Not a crazy dream she had to shake away, not some stupid school girl fantasy where she doodled “Mrs. Karen Castle” on her notebook over and over again. It was a real, grown up marriage. 

Karen was married to The Fucking Punisher. 

“Ok”, Foggy was saying. “Let me just see if I got this right. You infiltrated yourself in the deep of the newest militia”, he said to Frank, matter of factly. 

“Correct”, he answered and he tried to look serious, like he did during his trial, but she could see him trying not to squirm and his eyes dart to Matt from time to time, as if trying to calculate his next move. 

“How exactly did you manage to do that? Like, don’t they all know you kill bad guys?”

“He fucking killed three cops!” Matt said, louder than she usually heard his voice, from behind Foggy, stopping his pacing momentarily. 

“Three dirty cops, Red, settle down.”

“Oh, right,  _ excuse me _ . He killed three dirty cops the Mills didn’t know were dirty. No one knew, in fact. Convenient.”

“You have proof that they were dirty?” Foggy asked.

“Links with underage prostitution and drug distribution. I got it”, Frank said and Karen needed to control her laughter because this was just so serious. It was absurd, crazy, but it was real. “That private eye, Jones. She got some photos for me.”

“Oh, great”, Matt chimed in again. “Because Jessica is such a steady person.”

“She’s good at what she does, you know that”, Frank replied and he was starting to lose his patience. “You were the one to introduce us in the first place.”

“Not so you could recruit her to help you murder people!”

“Alright, Matt? I need you to be quiet, ok buddy?” Foggy asked and Matt sighed, resuming his pacing. “I’m trying to assess a situation. Anyway,” he turned back to Frank. “You were infiltrated.” Now he looked at Karen. “And you decided to write an article on the Mills. Matt, I swear to God!” he exclaimed when he heard him scoff.

“Yes,” Karen said, pretending Matt didn’t say anything. “I was looking into them for a story, but they caught me. I didn’t know Frank was with them, he had told me he would spend some time out of town before he disappeared. Luckily, he was there when they brought me to their boss.”

“Oh”, Matt laughed, full of sarcasm. “Saint Castle.”

No one said anything, but they all paused. 

“You told them she was your…”

“Fiancee”, Frank completed. “Yeah, just ‘girlfriend’ wasn’t gonna be much for them, they’d kill her for sure. I couldn’t say she was my wife already, they’d know I was lying.”

“So you went for fiancee, that she was just looking for you?”

“Right.”

“But then they started getting restless, looking into me, so I kinda-”

“She moved in with him and the militia. Fucking terrific”, Matt said, punching the kitchen door, making it swing open and bounce off the wall. 

“I’m serious, man, chill!”

Eyes glued on Matt again, Frank sighed and resumed speaking, that not-really-but-almost smirk threatening to show. “She had to move in so they would stop looking too much into her.”

“Did it work?”

Karen and Frank shared a quick look and he shrugged. 

“More or less. They started talking about dates and shit.”

“A wedding?”, Foggy confirmed.

“That’s right. And I had this thought-”

"That you could round them all up together at your wedding and go to town shooting everyone in the head.”

“You know what, Red, you’re almost right.”

Karen started to speak, if only to prevent the two frenemies to start actually punching each other. 

“They started asking if we had a date yet, who was coming, about my family, stuff like that. And then they were arranging things themselves, like venues and stuff. I was being dragged to try on dresses!”

“And then I thought that it would be a hell of a lot easier to get an understanding on how ranking went in a party. Everyone’s boss and their mother would attend if we pulled it right.”

“So, a month later, you were getting married”, Foggy completed. 

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“And you did kill a bunch of people after.”

“Day after. Don’t worry, all criminals. No loose ties this time.”

“You killed 17 people at once, you maniac!”

“Ok. Excuse me for a moment”, Foggy got up and turned around. “Matt, a word?”

“Oh, come on, you’re not gonna-”

“I’m gonna. Come on.” 

He pulled Matt into his kitchen and closed the door, leaving Karen and Frank alone in the living room. 

“He seems to be taking it pretty good”, Frank said. 

“Better than Matt, anyway.”

This time, Frank let out a chuckle. 

“He’s pretty damn mad.”

Karen laughed quietly, supporting her head on her hands. 

“I didn’t know he was gonna react like that.”

“Well. It’s understandable”, he lifted a hand to put a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You’re pretty important to him.”

She looked at him and oh. Mistake. They shouldn’t start something they couldn’t finish here in Foggy’s apartment. 

“And then here you are. Mrs. Castle.”

She lifted her eyebrows at him and made a defiant face, to break the suddenly heavy air, filled with that thing that made her skin tingle and push her towards him. 

“If anything, you’re Mr. Page.”

He let out one of those chuckles that made her want to bite his lips. 

“It’s not a bad name.”

Right then, Foggy walked back in and sat back down, Matt settling against a wall behind him, refusing to sit with them. 

“Sorry about that. Right. So. You killed the entire eastern militia. All of them?”

Frank nodded. 

“Wasn’t too big of a group to begin with.”

“And now you guys want an annulment?”

“Yeah.”

That’s the part that Karen was still confuse about. Logically, she knew it was the right thing to do. Frank and marriage… It was a complicated thing. Maria was still very much alive in his heart, she was still his wife, even if she was dead. Plus, it was still so dangerous for him out there. Time did not bring him as many friends as it did enemies. He had allies, yes, but he was still wanted by the law and by the less righteous people of the city. Plus, if they were married, she was a liability to him and he was one to her. Her life would be flipped upside down, people using her to get to him. 

The only logical path for them was to annul this marriage, as soon as possible. 

Still, the fantasies of quiet days, normal life as a married couple never failed to create a warm feeling inside her. 

“It’s safer for her”, was all Frank argued. 

Foggy examined them for a second, and then he sighed. 

“Christ. This isn’t gonna be easy”, he ran a hand over his hair. “First, we have to come up with a viable reason, like non consummation, or-”

He stopped talking when Frank and Karen stole a glance at each other. 

“What?”

Frank cleared his throat and looked at his hands on top of the table. Karen let out a breath and looked at her friend. 

“We can’t, uh, we can’t argue that.”

Matt stopped pacing and turned towards the table, his hands on his waist. 

“W-what?” he asked, in a low voice. It was that tattle-tale tone every kid recognized, like when their parent was calm just before an explosion and you’d be grounded for a year.

If she wasn’t taking such pleasure from his whole reaction to this, Karen might even be a little apprehensive. 

“What do you mean by that?” he asked again, taking a step forward, his glasses catching the light when he walked. 

Foggy opened his mouth to speak, clearly in an attempt to defuse a situation before it got bad, but Frank spoke before him. 

“Aren’t you a lawyer, Red? A good one? I think you can figure out what it means.”

It was all very silent for a moment. Matt stood there with a mean face towards Frank, Foggy sat in front of them with a trained neutral expression (but Karen knows him too well. She knows when he’s freaking out), Frank looked back at Matt and Karen’s eyes moved on all of them, measuring. 

“Ok. Fine. We can’t argue that. It’s not our only option. It’s not even our biggest problem. I have to think of a judge that will sign it off and not attempt to throw you in jail.”

Frank shrugged.

“I’ll get back out.”

“You  _ married  _ him?  _ Him,  _ Karen?!” Matt turned to her, pointing at Frank. Before she could answer, he turned back to the Punisher. “It’s not gonna be so easy this time, Frank! They’ll throw you in maximum security, you’re not gonna be able to stroll in and out the door as you damn well please!”

Foggy adopted an apologetic expression, his mouth tight and eyebrows up. 

“He’s right, you know.”

It was another hour before they could start coming up with a plan that made sense. She didn’t want to, but the most viable option was to argue that they were - Karen especially - forced into it by the situation with the militia. Which they would also use as an argument to maybe cut a deal for Frank - he would give them the rest of the names he had, of people connected to the criminal organization and his sentence wouldn’t be so bad. 

It was rough. It was bad, maybe even a fickle dream that it would work, but it was all they could come up with for the moment. 

When they got up to leave, Karen hugged Foggy and he whispered a “Should’ve known you were trouble, Page”. She smiled at him and eyed Frank and Matt, both standing there assessing each other. 

She exchanged a look with Foggy and moved to pull Frank by his wrist to the door. 

“Foggy, let me know when we can meet again. I know you’re busy…”

“I’ll call you, don’t worry. You kids stay out of trouble.”

She moved to the door, which meant she would have to walk pass Matt. She stopped in front of him and he sustained the mean face for a second. But then he softened, turning his head to her. 

“Don’t go getting knocked up or anything.”

She chuckled, but then Frank was behind her, a hand on her back, pushing her towards the door gently. 

“I don’t know, Red. That’s what married people do, ain’t it?”

“Yeah, go ahead, piss me off,” Matt answered, not following them to the door. “See what happens.” 

.:.

In the car, Frank mused how late night driving was nice. Streets almost empty, they didn’t have to stop at red lights or behind a jam and he didn’t have to feel like a sitting duck. 

Plus, having Karen sitting beside him, legs tucked under her, elbow resting on the open window, fingers playing with her own hair, the other hand holding one of his guns, because it was bothering him to drive with it strapped to his ankle, like it was a phone or a wallet or something just as mundane.

Just one of her husband’s things. 

He chuckled and took it from her, putting it on the space between their seats.  

“You don’t have to hold it, you know.”

She let out a breath and offered him a small smile. 

“I think Foggy’s gonna figure this out. He’s good.”

“I know, I remember.”

Frank had to suppress that feeling, that one warm feeling that would make him enjoy having her by his side, officially. This was not a permanent thing, this marriage of theirs. It wasn’t safe for her, it wasn’t what she deserved. But damn if he didn’t like that idea. Damn if he didn’t want to go and let as many people as possible know that she’s taken, now. By him. 

He would love to say it was just because he was remembering what it was like to be someone’s husband, that he liked that feeling, that he was just remembering Maria. And he did, everyday, but not always. Not all the time. It caught him off guard, the realization that he actually met someone that could make him stop thinking about how he lost Maria in the first place. Someone who took her own space in his mind and was getting dangerously close to his heart. 

(To be honest, he suspected she was already there.)

Since before the wedding, they were getting closer. It was organic, he already had her in such a pedestal, she was so precious to him. He could feel his heart tightening when they showed up with her and the notion that she could die shook him to his core. 

He could not lose her again. He wouldn’t. Not her, too. 

So he said it. It was just his Karen, looking for him. Just his Karen.

And that she became. Clinging to him, his side being the only safe place when they were surrounded by criminals and murderers - he was, technically, the worst of them all, but she only felt safe when he was there. 

That involved a lot of touching. To comfort, to reassure, to whatever reason, they touched a lot, now. When he got “home”, when he had to leave, when she had to leave. When they were finally alone and didn’t have to pretend to be a couple in love, that’s when they touched the most, a hand on her face, her hands on his chest, her forehead against his shoulder.

In one month, they went from unlikely almost friends to two people who could not bare to be apart for too long. 

She first kissed him one night, when he was questioning everything, kicking himself over the fact that he had put her in danger. She stood in front of him, too closer, like she would, now, and ran her fingertips on his face, making him look at her, smiling up at him, telling him she got herself into this situation. 

“You keep me safe”, she said and his hand rose to her waist, fingers tight around it. “I feel safe with you.”

Frank swallowed and frowned, because he would protect her with his life, but he wasn’t sure if that was enough. 

Karen smiled up at him and he leaned forward, touching his forehead to hers. She raised her face and placed her mouth on top of his. It was so natural. Such an obvious thing. It shot shivers down his limbs and he kissed her back, as if they had done it a million times. 

After that, all their kisses were for the benefit of others. To keep the façade, the pretense. 

Until the wedding, when they got into that stupid limo and the driver couldn’t see them because of that privacy window thing, but he didn’t care and neither did she. He pulled her to him and she went willingly, placing her legs around his hips when he pulled her dress up, sitting on top of him, hands on his neck and shoulders while he kissed her silly, making her gasp and moan when he let go of her mouth to favor her neck, those nails of hers scratching a pattern on his skin, loosening his tie and his buttons, shit, yes, why hadn’t they done this before?

Frank had imagined their “wedding night” would be just like any other, only in a fancy hotel room. It wasn’t. 

He should have studied his new information, should have analysed the faces he saw at the party, planned his next move, pinned down the leaders of the mafia-wanna-be militia. 

The only thing he pinned down was her, on that nice bed, with the nice sheets, with his hands around her wrists, legs and arms and mouth and his body, he pinned her down and she moved, she curved and she arched against him, saying his name in a breathy way that made him change his mind every time he contemplated stopping. 

Once when they got there. Twice when she stepped into the shower. Three times when they woke up in the middle of the night. Again the next morning. Again when they got back to his apartment. 

He couldn’t get enough of her and she did not seem to want to be away from him. So Frank made sure they had a convincing act for his Mills buddies. Nobody would be able to tell they were not really married, even if they were really married. 

Back in his place - not the one he had while undercover, the one he had when he was being his real, fugitive self -, she opened the fridge for something to eat while he quickly checked the cameras and their feed to make sure it was all quiet. 

He was rewinding on the third hour they had been away, just to make sure a kid with a hoodie was just a kid with a hoodie and nothing else, when he felt arms around his neck and she bent over to kiss him on the cheek. 

“Are you hungry?” she asked. 

“Yeah”, he answered, satisfied no one had come near the place, closing the computer and getting up, hands on her hair. “But we’ll take care of that later.”

Karen laughed when he picked her up and put her legs around his waist, hands on his neck. 

“So are we making sure it’s impossible to argue the non consummation of the wedding?”

He offered her an affirmative humming and caught her lower lip between his teeth, touching her back to a wall, suddenly too impatient to reach the bed.

One of these days, Frank would get his wife to let herself scream while he moved within her. His ego had a great time while she did her best to muffle the loud sounds that he pulled out of her, but he wanted to hear it. He wanted to hear it all, measure what exactly made the loudest shouts, what caused just a yelp, what resulted in moans. 

If possible, before the annulment. If possible, now. 

“Let go for me, baby”, he asked against her face, opening his mouth and biting on the skin under her jaw, moving, moving, moving, harder than usual, he needed to hear her. 

“Not yet”, she breathed, gasped, even then stopping herself from being too loud, little whimpers coming out and he should have been more clear. 

Picking her right hand, he stretched her arm out and made her close her fingers around the iron bars that secured one of the windows (he always hated that feature, it would be in his way in case he needed to make a fast exit. But it came with the place, and, right now, he loved it). When she had a solid grip, he let go from under her, hooking his arm under her left knee. With her leg draped over his elbow, he braced against the wall and he thrusted up, grunting with sensation and with effort, something that could almost be considered a smile coming to his lips when Karen let out a startled cry, loud, it echoed against the window glass and it reverberated in him. It was like fuel, that sound and her nails on his skin. 

He did it again, sharp, hard, once, twice and she cried, she let it out, she screamed and she tried to bite on her lip again, to keep herself quiet, but he wouldn’t have it. 

“Let it out, let me hear you”, against her mouth. Karen touched her head to the wall behind her and he felt her body adjust around him, to better feel. 

Again, he moved, taking a step to his left, taking her other hand, the one on his neck, and securing that against the iron bars too.

Now, with her bracing herself up, he hooked her other leg over his elbow, too, and got a hold of the iron grid behind her. 

“Hold on tight”, he instructed, because now he could move more, could pull against the bars, his leverage against her was better, his motions more fluid.

“Oh my God, Frank!” she whined, holding on as if her life depended on it and he grunted against her neck, her hair on his face, his teeth trying to get rid of clothing, biting and sucking and his world was spinning because she was screaming and he was moving, so hard, trying not to go too fast because he wanted it to never end, he wanted to go forever. 

As a test, he slowed his pace and his thrusts considerably, moving slow, too slow, leaning his head back to watch her. 

“N-no, no, no, Frank, please-” Karen whined, moving her own hips against him. 

Some other time - next time, maybe - Frank would make her talk. Ask, demand, explain to him as if he needed guidance. Beg for him until he couldn’t control himself anymore. 

For now, he was satisfied with listening to her screams. But he would take just a sample. 

“You want me to stop, ma’am?”

“Hmgm, no!” She said, arching towards him, moving her hips. “No, please, Frank, please…”

He complied. 

Anything for his wife. 

**Author's Note:**

> Syd, hope you liked it s2


End file.
